The immaterial labour behind the picture-perfect career

Caitlin Strong
The Public Ear
Published in
4 min readOct 5, 2019
Image: https://unsplash.com/photos/Se58TjWOmJM

When I see glamorous shots of social media influencers who seemingly do nothing but travel, drink and fine-dine, it’s initially hard to argue they have it tough. But everything that glitters is not gold. What so many of us don’t realise is that countless hours go into maintaining the flood of likes and followers of Instagram’s elite. Instagram’s vision is ‘to capture and share the world’s moments’. But these ‘moments’ for influencers are inherently different from moments for us mere mortals, as relational and emotional labour intrinsically affects their personal experiences now shared with millions. In a world where online influencers must spend unquantifiable hours promoting their ‘authentic self’ as a model for business success, work and play have merged.

We have witnessed social networking sites that are seemingly designed for leisure (sharing your favourite holiday snap, or swanky restaurant experience with your friends) morph into day jobs, as contexts collapse and new media becomes a platform for brand management and promotion of a ‘commodified self’. Self-promotion in the context of digital entrepreneurialism is an explicit form of labour in our post-Fordist economy. The pay-off could be earning a role in the next hot collaboration or securing a paid partnership with Bondi Sands.

This suggests a digital ‘reputation economy’ where realms of work and play collide. With time, Instagram influencers have become increasingly compelled to devote time and energy into fashioning a social version of themselves online in the hope of generating a profit.

As The New York Times so gracefully puts it:

“Social media was once mostly just for fun, but not anymore. Social media is now. . . a key part of how work gets done.”

Image: https://cdn.thepennyhoarder.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/08035233/2.png

What we forget to consider as we enviously scroll through our Instagrams is the incessant labour that goes on behind the scenes of this glamourous self-promotion. A lot of the time this work is largely uncompensated and unquantifiable.

One example of this online ‘always-on’ influencer culture is conceptualised by Nancy Baym’s term relational labour: the expectation of freelance workers to engage in unpaid social labour online to foster audience relationships if they wish to have any hope at professional success.

Basically, the success of a social media personality is premised on how they engage their fan-base, creating impressions of exclusive and intimate connections between influencer and follower.

Instagram: @lozcurtis

Take Lauren Curtis for an example: A 26-year-old Australian beauty blogger whose popular YouTube channel paired with a number of paid partnerships (including brands such as Colgate, Garnier and Boost juice) has put her on the list of the top 10 richest influencers in Australia. Boasting 1.4million Instagram followers, Lauren’s net worth is estimated at around $500,000AUD. But ultimately Lauren says her online success lies in her ability to make her followers feel like friends.

“There’s a relationship that forms between the ‘creator’ and the ‘viewer’, similar to that of a friendship”

We have seen how influencer’s emotional labour is rewarded in terms of connection with audiences, leading to long-term brand success. But what we don’t see is the behind-the-scenes hours recognised as a legitimate form of work. Behind all the glitz and glam is a world of constant notifications, high expectations for delivering content, unlimited opportunities for fan interaction and a never-ending demand for another Insta upload. Academics Duffy and Wissinger agree,

“Online narratives about the fun, free, and authentic nature of influencer’s self-starter careers conceal less auspicious realities, including the demands for emotional labor, self-branding labor, and an always-on mode of entrepreneurial labor”

Relational labour may be dismissed as ‘embodied, natural or immaterial’. Something that is expected, not acknowledged. But there are some significant flaws underpinning this mindset. Fundamentally, it overlooks the fact that emotional labour is hard work, requiring a certain tact that is often unindemnified and unrecognised.

Here’s a thought. Next time you find yourself scrolling through your latest feed of Instagram influencers, admiring their dazzling views from a recent trip or showing a delicious, over-priced meal, take a minute. Where you or I would get stuck right into that mouth-watering steak, an influencer is expected to take a picture, write a post, tag a company… never missing an opportunity to connect with their fan base. Leisure ‘moments’ for Instagram’s elite aren’t just to be enjoyed, but rather capitalised on, as opportunities for continued business success.

--

--